The Sky Is Awake
by simplesnowflake
Summary: When the sea took their parents, Anna knocked on Elsa's door one last time... and Elsa reached out without thinking. Now those few words might just build a fragile bridge between two sisters for the first time in forever. Because Anna isn't very good at giving up. Re-imagining the three years in between- a series of oneshots.
1. Of Course I Want To Build A Snowman

I do not own Frozen or any of its amazing characters.

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**The Sky Is Awake  
**

_I. Of Course I Want To Build A Snowman_

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She always heard Anna coming. Those skipping footfalls, that happy humming and the occasional yelps of surprise; Elsa always listened for them. Then the knock would come – Anna's knock – and that was when Elsa had to stop listening. She'd bite her lip and clench her hands, recite the Honorary Code or something just as bad, and pray the cold would stay underneath her gloves, far, far away from her sister, who was much, much too close.

But this time, she didn't hear Anna coming. No skipping, no humming, no tripping over herself – simply a knock. Not even Anna's special knock; just… a knock.

"Elsa?"

She curled deeper into herself, hiding her face. But even though her eyes were squeezed shut, Elsa still saw the gentle smiles of a man and his wife._ You'll be fine, Elsa_, the man told her.

On the other side of the frosted wood, Anna spoke to her door, still so trustingly despite years of silence. "Please, I know you're in there. People are asking where you've been… They say have courage, and I'm trying to."

Behind her eyelids, Elsa saw the silhouettes of two tall stones, and a small figure standing between them. She bit her lip, clenched her hands. _Weselton, Arendelle's closest partner in timber and fur trade… Southern Isles, steady relations but minor business ties…_

"I'm right out here for you… Just let me in."

_Conceal, don't feel._

"We only have each other. It's just you and me…" Anna's voice trembled. "What are we gonna do?"

She heard her sister slide down to the floor, felt her head fall back against the door. For the first time in forever, they were sitting back to back. And for the first time in forever, Elsa wasn't glad for the wood and ice between them.

The snow fell harder from thin air, gathering on Elsa's shoulders. _Be the good girl you always have to be._

"… Do you want to build a snowman…?"

Her nails dug into her arms as Elsa listened to the sound she hated most in the world; more than the crack of ice, more than laughter outside the gates, more than silence.

Her sister was crying.

It was only supposed to be two weeks. She'd had a king's promise. Her Papa had lowered his head to hers and smiled with his warm gaze… _You'll be fine, Elsa._

He'd promised.

But now Elsa was cold and small, and Anna was crying in a place she couldn't reach. Her room – her safety, her prison – was frozen solid.

She wasn't fine.

Raising her head just a little, Elsa opened her eyes. The unfallen tears made everything a white blur. She heard Anna stifle a sob, pictured her wiping her face, and suddenly Elsa's own face was wet.

"I really, really do," she whispered.

She heard Anna sniffle. A long pause.

Then her sister's small voice seeped through the wood and ice and silence. "Elsa?"

Elsa's eyes widened, a tear falling from her lashes. She felt her father's stare. _Elsa,_ he murmured. _What have you done? _She buried her face back in her arms.

"Elsa?" Anna tried again.

Moonlight trickled through the space below her door, shining in from the arched windows in the hallway. The last time Elsa had let herself look through those windows, it was to watch their parents' carriage make its way to the ship. Maybe if she hadn't looked, they would have returned. Maybe Elsa had cursed them.

The faint light shifted as Anna moved. Her bubbly haste was absent, but so was the sound of her crying. It was the only thing that comforted Elsa right now.

A long stretch of silence. Then- _knock knock kno-knock knock._

Elsa's head came up as Anna asked again, "Do you want to build a snowman? It doesn't have to be a snowman."

The familiar muffle of her sister pressing her lips to the keyhole put the smallest of smiles on Elsa's face. _Of course I want to build a snowman, Anna._

Suddenly, the words threatened to rise with the lump in her throat. Keeping them down made her voice crack. Instead, hesitantly-

"Goodnight, Anna," Elsa said, for the first time in ten years.

She always listened for the sound of Anna leaving, the dejected "okay, bye" and dragging feet. If Anna turned around, Elsa would think to herself, she'd give her sister a chance, any chance. But when Anna did turn around and knock her hopeful knock one more time, Elsa's _Have you been well? _or _I miss you, too_ always turned into _Go away, Anna_, and she'd feel even worse. She stopped wishing, yet in spite of everything, Elsa never stopped listening.

But this time, she didn't hear Anna leave.

"Good… Goodnight, Elsa."

This time, Elsa simply heard Anna. No knocks, no goodbyes – just Anna.

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A/N: When I watched the movie for the first time and heard _Do You Want To Build A Snowman?_ I always wished they'd let Elsa have the last line. I mean, come on, it fits the music! And we need every sisterly fluff we can get! It makes me sad to think that these amazing sisters couldn't even be there for each other. So here's my shot at what might have been if Elsa had said something that night. These oneshots will reimagine the three years between the king and queen's death, up to coronation day.

The chapter title comes from an amazing song by reindeersarebetter. She wrote and sang the snowman song from Elsa's POV! You have no idea how happy I was to find someone had the same thoughts as me! Check it out here: reindeersarebetter. tumblr post/69827214444/of-course-i-want-to-build-a-snowman-is-my

I'm an old fanfiction writer on a new account hashing out something for the first time in forever, so thanks so much for reading and I hope you guys enjoy the ride with me!


	2. Eight Thousand Salad Plates

**The Sky Is Awake**

_II. Eight Thousand Salad Plates_

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Anna dreamed of snow in the courtyard. It wasn't falling from the sky; it was simply there. White slopes piled across the lawn, powdering the frozen fountains and making everything glow. She loved it. And when Anna reached down to gather a snowball, her hands were small like a child's, and that made a strange sense of joy blossom through her being.

She began to roll snow. Someone had started building a snowman nearby. Anna hauled her ball over. Moments later, a pair of gloved hands dropped an oval head onto the pile. Twig arms appeared, followed by a carrot nose and a wide dotted smile. Anna laughed. The snowman was done, just like magic.

The other builder came to her side. Anna looked up, but their face was too high to see. Yet somehow, she knew she trusted this person. She watched as they moved behind the snowman and waved his arms about, speaking in a goofy voice, "Hi, I'm-"

A strong wind swept through, blowing Anna's pigtails into her face. She had to close her eyes. When she opened them again, the snow was gone and she was alone. Only the snowman remained, but even he was beginning to melt.

As his white cheeks drooped askew, Anna reached out. "Wait!" she called. "What's your name?"

"… _in the hallways, poor child…"_

The snowman crumpled into the ground. The wind returned. Squinting, Anna turned her face into it. Her eyes widened.

"… _my lady?"_

The gates were open.

"Princess Anna! Please, get up!"

And up Anna got – but just one leg. Her foot smacked into something soft and fleshy. Someone yelped. Her eyes flew open. "Where's the chocolate – oh! I'm so sorry, Kai! Here, let me – ow!" Her head cracked into hard wood and stars burst out. Clutching her skull, Anna groaned, "Ooh, who put this door here?"

Gerda's concerned face appeared above her. "You slept by Princess Elsa's room the entire night, my lady. What were you thinking?"

"Well, I probably wasn't. But I… wait, what?"

Anna twisted around – and there it was: the white door against her back. Dazed, she put a hand on its surface. It was cold.

_Goodnight, Anna…_

Kai stopped nursing his shin and fixed his bow tie. "Your breakfast is waiting for you in the hall. Please prepare yourself for the day."

"Great – I'm starving!" Anna made to rise but immediately smacked her head again, this time on the door knob. A silken blanket slid off her shoulders - so that was what she'd tripped on!

Wait, a blanket?

She picked it up. It smelled of tea leaves and fresh snow.

The door was still at her back. Anna pictured it opening. She tried to feel Elsa's hands keeping her warm, and strained to hear anything her sister might have whispered in the darkness.

_I really, really do…_

Anna jumped up, startling Kai and Gerda.

She messed up her special knock in her haste. "Elsa," Anna called into the keyhole, clutching her sister's blanket. "Let's eat breakfast together!"

Silence, as usual. But Elsa had to be listening. Anna used to think Elsa heard everything that went on in the castle, because Mama told her quiet people didn't get distracted by their own noise. Then again, she might've said it just to make Anna quiet down. _Mama…_

"Come on, I know you're up – the sky's awake!"

Gerda's hand dropped on Anna's shoulder, but she didn't say anything. Just like her father.

An unladylike growl rumbled from Anna's stomach. How could Elsa resist that mouth-watering aroma of Arendelle's best cuisine? Actually, how could her sister resist _everything_?

"Fine," Anna announced, making Kai and Gerda jump again. She sat back down, though not without tripping on her skirt. "If you won't eat with me, I'm eating with you. Gerda, please bring my breakfast here."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm eating right here!"

"I don't think-" Kai began.

"Even Papa let me eat with the horses sometimes – and you know, he's the _king_."

"I'm quite sure His Majesty wasn't aware of those instances-"

"Please, Kai? Gerda?" Looking up at her servants, Anna felt as small as she had in her dream… only this didn't make her feel warm and safe. Goosebumps shivered on her arms. Anna drew Elsa's blanket around her shoulders. "Please?" she said again. She didn't even know her voice could be so quiet. "Papa… won't find out about it."

The servants looked at each other. It was the same look Anna had caught them sharing when she'd stood between her mother and father for the last time, while the priest made blessings in an old tongue she didn't understand. Elsa would've understood… if she'd been there. But that was okay; Anna had been fine on her own. She was always fine.

Kai and Gerda bowed low and left. Anna loved the two of them, but she really wished they wouldn't look at her so pitifully. It wasn't like _her_ ship had capsized-

Her breath caught. "Oh, no," she whispered, feeling that awful prick in her eyes again. No, no, no. She'd had enough of that last night. _If you cry too much, _Elsa had once whispered when they were little,_ your tears will create a big monster that will eat all the chocolate in Arendelle._

Anna's laugh came out as a hitched hiccup. Did Elsa still like chocolate?

She wiped her eyes on the blanket, and then remembered it wasn't hers. "Do you mind if I hold onto this for a bit longer?" she asked the white door. "It's kind of cold out here – oh! I hope you don't catch a cold because of me! It's so bad being sick. You can't go outside and there's so much nice food you can't have. Every time I'm sick Mama always-"

Anna stopped. There was no sound from Elsa's room. Anna drew her knees to her chest. She wasn't hungry anymore, which was strange because she felt particularly empty right now, and it wasn't just her stomach.

Gerda had to be on her way back with her breakfast. Anna pictured her meal just sitting there on the long dining table; and then suddenly it was _her_ sitting at the table, picking at her greens and making conversation to all the vacant chairs around her.

"Oh," Anna said softly. Because that was how it would be from now on, wouldn't it?

Her eyes stung so badly. She tilted her head back, blinking fast, keeping it all in. _I'm okay. Totally fine. Elsa eats by herself all the time._

But she was still gazing up at the ceiling when Gerda returned with a tray. "I'm protecting Arendelle's chocolate," Anna told her. Gerda hesitated before smiling and leaving her alone. But Anna wasn't so sure she wanted to be alone. She didn't want to get used to it.

So she kept talking as her fork chased blueberries around the plate, pretending she and Elsa were only separated by a table and not a door. "Did you know I dreamed that we were building a snowman? Well, you did most of the building. I got to put his nose in, though. We even gave him a name but…" But the wind had blown and the gates were open, and she'd been all alone. "A-Anyway, it was a good dream!"

A blueberry flew over the edge. Anna pretended not to see it. "I used to think you snuck out at night to play by yourself. I'd camp out here, trying to catch you out. Only I'd, um, fall asleep. Papa always knew. I don't know how; I mean, it's not like I _snore_ or anything. Then he'd carry me back to bed. One day I told him he didn't have to walk all the way to my room; I could just sleep in Elsa's bed. He patted my head and didn't say anything. He does… did… that a lot…"

_I'm okay. I'm always okay. Have courage._

She put the fork down and wound her fingers together.

"Elsa? Can you talk to me? Please? It's… it's so quiet."

She waited, but the quiet stayed.

Maybe she'd imagined her sister's soft words last night. Maybe Joan and the other paintings had to be enough.

Anna got to her feet. It was bright outside. She was almost round the corner before she realised she still had Elsa's blanket. She had been clinging to it the entire time. Maybe because it smelled like childhood; of burrowing into Elsa's bed for a story, or a bad dream, or waking her sister to make snowmen. Anna had spent years keeping those memories in her now too-big, too-quiet room… which she was trudging back to now, while the person she'd made those memories with stayed locked in an equally too-big, too-quiet room.

"Darn it, Anna," she groaned. "What are you doing?"

Back in front of the white door, Anna took a deep breath and drew the blanket tighter. She raised her hand to knock and-

And footsteps. Muffled and hurried. Anna's eyes widened.

"Anna… wait!"

The white door burst open.

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A/N: Because eight thousand salad plates is way too much for our favourite sisters. Picked up in Elsa's POV in the next chapter. Have an amazing 2014, everyone!


	3. Love Is An Open Door

**The Sky Is Awake**

_III. Love Is An Open Door_

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The king climbed awkwardly onto the ladder, hitching a portrait of himself under one arm. Elsa was terrified for him to say the least, even though he'd assured her he was in no more danger than he was in her presence… which she wasn't so sure about. Her– powers had only gotten worse in the four years since she closed herself behind this white door.

Elsa dreaded the day her gloves wouldn't be enough.

"Every heir to Arendelle's throne has their predecessor's portrait in their room," the king told her over his shoulder, as he raised the hammer. Elsa flinched and begged her father to mind his fingers. "They watch over and advise us. They remind us not to make the same mistakes they – ouch!" Her father clutched his thumb. Elsa couldn't bear to look. "I suppose that is my first lesson to you: monarchs are terrible carpenters. Learn it well, Elsa; it is a most… painful experience."

Elsa peeked through her gloves. _She_ had known that lesson already, but her father was just like Anna sometimes. Just sometimes, but it was there.

Waving his hand gingerly, her father stepped off the ladder and admired his work. Elsa didn't have it in her to point out that it was crooked. "Elsa." The king's gaze turned to her. "You're my heir," he told her.

A sheen of frost crept up the painting's gilded frame. They both noticed it. The corner of her father's lips tightened but he didn't take his eyes off hers. Elsa held her hands behind her back. "I-I know, Father."

"Does that frighten you?"

"No… of course not."

Her father sighed. "Now I must teach you another lesson: kings and queens must know to see through lies."

The room's temperature fell. Elsa twisted her fingers. "Anna would make a better leader," she blurted.

Her father raised an eyebrow. Somewhere downstairs, they heard Anna's bicycle crash into the poor knight's armour – again.

Elsa rephrased, "_I_ would make an awful leader… I don't know my people or their streets and… I can't be around them. Father, I-"

"Conceal it, don't feel it," the king cut in. His voice was firm. But snow started to fall. His eyes softened. "Don't let it show. Don't you see, Elsa?"

She couldn't look at him. "I do- I'm trying! But I can't stop it; I can't control it."

"No, Elsa." Her father stepped towards her. Elsa inhaled sharply. It felt wrong to be so close to someone she loved so much. "Conceal, don't feel," Papa murmured. "This is what it means to be a king… a queen. Only those who understand that can become worthy rulers."

Elsa stared into her father's expression.

"There is no one better suited to lead this country than you, Elsa of Arendelle."

"But I-"

"One day, you will have to face our people, and Anna. You will learn to control your powers. They are… they can make you strong."

"What if I hurt them?"

"You will be fine. I promise you." Those special words stopped the falling snow. Her Papa's gentle hands took her by the shoulders and turned her to face his portrait; the one he had nailed on her wall with his own hands. "Remember, I will be around for much longer to teach you my mistakes. Take your time, Elsa… but not too long."

"Not too long?" she asked.

He smiled. "Anna is waiting."

* * *

She hadn't moved in hours. Her room wasn't frozen anymore – just cold. She'd spent all night watching the ice run down the walls. She was starving.

Anna was still outside her door.

She was supposedly eating her breakfast there, though Elsa knew she hadn't touched it. Anna always talked with her mouth full, and the only thing that filled her voice now was forced smiles.

She shouldn't have said anything last night. And the blanket… that had been her worst mistake in all ten years.

Hugging her knees on the windowsill, Elsa's gaze wandered once more to the painting above her dresser. It was the same one the public still mourned over in the village square, only this one hung crooked. Looking at it, Elsa's face crumpled.

"I haven't learned all your mistakes yet… Papa."

Outside, Anna was telling her door about a dream. The more Elsa listened, the chillier her room became. _It wasn't a dream, Anna._ But she couldn't say that aloud. Not with her father watching.

_Conceal it, don't feel it._

"Papa always knew," Anna was saying. Elsa turned towards the door just as her sister's animated voice got smaller. "He patted my head and didn't say anything. He does… did… that a lot…"

Elsa closed her eyes. Ice blurred across the windowpanes.

"Elsa?"

_Don't let it show._

"Can you talk to me? Please? It's… it's so quiet."

Her breath misted in the chilly air. Any more and Anna would notice the cold. And that could never, never happen.

Elsa heard her sister leave.

_One day, you will have to face our people, and Anna._

"I didn't think it would come so soon," Elsa said to her father. But he just kept looking at her without saying anything, just like he always had.

Anna dragged her feet down the hallway. It was a sound Elsa never looked forward to, but she didn't hate it – not the way she hated Anna crying.

She wondered if Anna would cry alone in her room.

Elsa's bare feet tentatively brushed the lacquered floorboards. The chill danced across her skin. Her dress flowed down from the ledge with a soft _swish_, and suddenly it was the only sound in the room, in the entire palace.

Would Anna turn around this time?

Biting her lip, Elsa found herself taking slow steps across her room. She'd always known when Anna slept outside her door. After all, Elsa was the one who snuck out, just like Anna thought, to tell their father. But Papa couldn't look out for Anna anymore. He wasn't even watching Elsa.

And deep down, Elsa could still hear Anna sobbing in the dark.

Her lips parted, took in a breath. But nothing came out. She didn't know what to say. Her hand shivered on the door handle. It hadn't frozen, not yet, but it would. It always did.

_Anna is waiting._

Elsa squeezed her eyes shut.

"Anna… wait!"

She opened the door – and there stood Anna, her hand raised to knock.

Elsa's eyes widened. Anna's mouth hung open.

Then she lost her balance.

Elsa reached out to catch her without thinking, but Anna slipped on her untouched breakfast tray and flipped heels over head with a _"Ho-ho-whooaaa!"_ Blueberries and cereal spattered the walls, followed by the clang of silverware and the all-too-familiar crash of… Anna. Elsa winced.

Her sister lay sprawled in a royally inappropriate heap, drenched in milk. "Hi, ground," Anna moaned as she sat up. "I can't say I missed you. Ow, ow, there goes my hopefully unimportant organ…"

"A-Are you okay?"

"Who, me? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm fine – peachy, really. I mean, it's not like I didn't do the same thing last week with-" Anna stopped. There was jam in her hair and blankness in her eyes. Then she blinked. "Oh my goodness. El-"

Elsa slammed the door.

_Conceal, don't feel, conceal, don't feel – _but Elsa didn't know what she was feeling right now, because surely it couldn't be _nothing_. Her mind was blank, her breathing hard as if she'd run.

Outside, Anna picked herself off the ground, slipping and sliding. Elsa held her breath.

"Well, um," Anna began awkwardly. "Good morning to you, too?"

_Good morning. How have you been? I miss you, too. _"Go aw-" Elsa clapped her hands to her mouth.

"Sorry about the mess. I'll clean up right now– ah! … Ow. Okay, maybe I'll get Gerda. I'll be right back – just, uh, don't come out? Wait, what?"

Elsa looked down at the door handle, and sighed wistfully.

"I don't mean _don't_ come out; it's just that you _shouldn't_… no, wait. Ugh, I'm making this so awkward…"

"Olaf," Elsa said softly.

Anna quietened down. "Elsa?" she asked uncertainly.

The door opened again, just a crack. A cool breeze trickled into the hallway. Elsa kept herself pressed to the wall, out of sight, and took in a deep breath. "The snowman that we made… his name was Olaf."

Anna's damp skirt fluttered by the small opening. Elsa tightened her grip on the handle but Anna didn't force her way in. She didn't even try to look.

Instead, she leaned back on the other side of the same wall and tested the name thoughtfully. "Olaf…? That's right – Olaf! How could I forget? We even took him ice-skating with us. I loved Olaf!"

Elsa nodded to no one and realised she was smiling.

"I… didn't expect you to remember things like this," Anna admitted. "I thought you'd only remember… I don't know – the Honorary Code, or something stiff like Arendelle's _trade agreements_" – Elsa blinked and looked over at her desk, where a bound copy of precisely the latter lay bookmarked – "which I'm not saying is a bad thing because, well, my tutors would start crying if _I _knew that stuff. It's just… you know." Anna paused to breathe, and possibly to think. Then she started from the beginning. "It's good to see you again, Elsa."

Elsa glanced down at her gloves. "It's good to see you, too." She was surprised how smoothly it came out. Perhaps she had finally learned to conceal like their father. She glanced down at the sliver of light across the floor, searching. "Your hair has grown," she offered.

"Has it? So has yours. I think. This is so embarrassing. We haven't seen each other's faces in months and I just have to be wearing my breakfast."

"You should change into something dry," Elsa suggested.

"Trust me, I will." But it didn't sound like Anna was going anywhere.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Anna started to hum, then stopped self-consciously. Elsa's gaze softened.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, totally. I fall over all the time, which isn't really something to brag about."

"No, I meant, are you alright with– everything."

Finally, Anna understood. "Oh. I-I guess I'm holding up okay… and you?"

_Kings and queens must know to see through lies._

"Anna, I am so sorry. For leaving you to attend the… ceremony on your own. It must have been hard for you."

"What? No, don't apologise. It didn't bother me. Everyone was really nice." Anna was silent for a while. Then she sighed, letting her shoulders fall. "Are you sure we can't eat together? Because I'd really, really like that."

There it was. Elsa looked away from the pleading gaze that she couldn't see. "I can't, Anna."

"Why not? You came to dinner sometimes."

"That was because Father and Mother were there."

Too late, Elsa heard herself. She put her hand over her mouth, falling back against the wall. Not just in mortification, but because her eyes were filling up.

She barely heard Anna's faltering reply, but when she did she realised her sister's voice was just as thick. "So it _is_ my fault? That you don't leave your room or see anyone anymore?"

"Please, Anna, it's not like that."

"Then why? It's just a meal."

A burst of icicles erupted near the chandelier. "I just– can't. It's for your own good, I promise-"

"Elsa, there are fifty-eight seats at the dinner table – yes, I counted. And there's only one of me. How is that good for me? For anyone?"

It wasn't. Elsa, of all people, knew that best. But she couldn't be around Anna, or anyone, while her powers were like this. _It_ could happen again, and their father wouldn't be around to fix it.

She couldn't risk it.

Then Anna announced, "I guess I'll just have to eat here from now on."

Elsa's head came up. She didn't believe it enough to find her voice, not even to be horrified.

"We're going to be okay, Elsa." There wasn't any doubt in Anna's voice, even though Elsa heard tears on the verge of it all. "We're going to be okay," Anna repeated stubbornly.

_You'll be fine, Elsa._

The door fell shut beneath Elsa's hand. She heard Anna leave, this time squelching down the stairs. Slowly, Elsa made her way back to the windowsill.

Her feet splashed into cold water.

Elsa looked around her room, and realised the floor was wet with thawed ice.

* * *

A/N: I didn't think it would take three chapters to get up to this point but I sure enjoyed writing them. I hope you guys are enjoying the read and stay on for the rest of the ride. See you next chapter!


	4. Some Company Is Overdue

**The Sky Is Awake**

_IV. Some Company Is Overdue_

* * *

"Um…" The kitchen hand did not know where to begin. "I was under the impression Princess Elsa disliked cashew nuts?"

"Good! Maybe she'll take the hint this time!" Anna remarked vehemently, dumping handfuls of nuts across the plate.

"Forget it, Markus," the head chef said, clapping a beefy hand on the young man's shoulder. "This is not 'a princess' you're arguing with; it's '_that_ princess'."

"Hey! I heard that!"

"Please pardon my inability to whisper, Your Highness; the moustache gets in the way. Might I also quietly point out you're getting nuts on your own lunch?"

"Blergh!" Anna flicked the little devils from her plate. The chef watched with an amused smile, twisting his tiny moustache. Anna glowered at him.

Anna remembered when the royal kitchen used to be a clamouring bustle of a dozen white-topped chefs and their brigand of assistants, every inch of scrubbed countertop overflowing with extravagant dishes not found in any recipe book. Then the gates closed and the king cut his staff. One by one, the chefs dwindled, and now the royal kitchen seemed a cavern for one lone chef and his half-dozen helpers… and an overly adventurous princess. Anna had practically grown up in the kitchen. No one thought to keep her out of it, least of all the chef. Anna loved all the palace staff, but she had a special spot for Alfred.

He peered at her with a good-natured smirk. "Did something perhaps… _happen_ between you and Princess Elsa?"

"I don't know – does _ignoring me_ count?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. It took you ten years to notice?"

"Yes– wait, no – _Alfred!_" Anna threw up her hands, scattering more nuts. "It's different this time, okay? Elsa _talked_ to me. We talked about hair and snowmen and… stuff! Sisters talk about things like that, right? I thought we were getting somewhere. And now she won't say a thing to me – she doesn't even bother telling me to go away. Which totally wouldn't work anyway because, you know, it just won't." She munched dramatically on a fistful of grapes. "This is all so frustrating!"

Alfred made a thoughtful hum. "Well, little crown," he said. The old nickname made Anna smile. "Something is always better than nothing."

"Yeah, but I don't know if I'd call this 'something'."

"You call everything anything, little crown."

That was true.

"Alf?"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Does Elsa really, _really_ hate cashew nuts?"

"Only as strongly as you feel about sour cream, Princess."

Anna made a face and looked down at the colourful mess she'd made on Elsa's sandwiches. A small (okay, kind of big) bite of guilt tugged at her. "… Fine. I deserve some sour cream on mine. But just a little!"

Alfred brandished a spoon.

* * *

Slowly opening the door, a stare, a sigh, a half-hearted pleading look – that was how Elsa usually responded to Anna's deliveries.

Today, there was an extra grimace as blue eyes took in the culinary battlefield.

"Alf let me decorate," Anna grinned innocently.

Elsa gingerly took the tray. She lingered to watch Anna settle down on the floor with her own meal, and then closed the door with another soft sigh.

The first thing Anna did was push the mountain of sour cream to one side of her plate. Stupid, evil, _justified_ Alfred. Anna ripped a grumpy bite from her sandwich. Then she took out the pen and paper.

_You can't ignore me forever,_ she scrawled, drawing an upset snowman for good measure. She slipped the paper under the white door.

On the bright side, Alf smoked the _best_ salmon.

_What's in your sandwitch?_

_I'm kind of annoyed with you! (In case you couldn't tell)_

_Which letter of the alphabet has the most water?_

_I found a bird's nest on the stable roofs. Want to see?_

_Do you even read these notes?_

Anna pushed her plate to one side. She pressed an ear to the keyhole. Nothing. One week, less than ten words exchanged _and _Elsa hadn't replied to a single one of her notes. Anna realised she hadn't tried this hard in a long time. She used to climb windows, play noisy instruments, cry wolf – everything. Elsa stopped responding to them as they grew older, and at some point Anna had stopped trying.

Maybe things would have been different if she had been more stubborn.

She was almost out of paper.

_Are you mad at me?_

_I'm sorry if you are… _She started to write more but the words didn't come out right.

One slip of paper left. Anna twirled her pen, dropped it, twirled it again, then hesitantly put it to paper.

_Sometimes I'm scared I'll forget the sound of your voice._

She scrunched it up quickly and lobbed it out the open window, so shocked that she'd written such a thing.

Years of silence had made Anna an expert at conjuring excuses for her sister. Who knows? Elsa could be a slow eater. She could spend the whole day lounging in bed, never looking near the door. Or the slit beneath the door could be a portal to a magical wonderland, and Anna's notes were actually being intercepted by a clumsy old wizard. Sometimes she shared these theories with the white door, even though Elsa never confirmed any of them.

Anna thought Elsa was being cruel, but the thought tasted like sour cream and she hated that.

"Hey," she called after a pause. "You don't have to eat the nuts if you don't like them. I'm just kidding. I'm not _really_ mad at you."

It _was_ a funny thought, though. Being angry with Elsa. It was probably a weird thing to never have argued with your own sister. Anna was sure she and Elsa would've fought growing up together, princesses or not. All siblings fought, right? Anna knew that much from climbing the watchtowers. She'd watch kids chase each other on the streets and remember how she and Elsa once played hide and seek. Elsa always found her no matter which suit of armour she was hiding in.

"What happened?" Anna wondered aloud. Not to Elsa or her door; just… wondering.

She thought she heard Elsa sigh.

Anna was thinking about leaving when she felt something flutter against her hand. She looked down. The corner of a ruffled paper slip poked out from the door.

Snatching it up, Anna scanned over her own handwriting – _What's in your sandwitch?_ Fresh ink had crossed out the 't'. And on the other side, in neat cursive Anna had never achieved: _I should talk to your tutors._

"Really, Elsa? Really?" Anna called, smiling. "Did you figure out the riddle?"

It took a few moments, but Elsa answered. _Knock knock kno-knock knock. Tell me._

Anna knelt up to the keyhole, and all of a sudden she was a child again. "Which letter of the alphabet has the most water?"

She held a long pause, threading Elsa along, until finally her sister gave another knock of exasperation. Anna's grin widened.

"The C!" she said proudly.

One heartbeat… two… three–

And she heard it. A bubble of giggles burst from Anna's own lips, relieved and disbelieving. It struck her that she was an idiot.

After all, no little sister could ever forget the sound of their favourite person's laughter.

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to thank you guys for your reviews and interest in this little story! It really brings back my love for writing.

Fun fact: Most of the chapter titles will be references to the movie. Can you get them all?


	5. We Know Better

**The Sky Is Awake**

_V. We Know Better_

* * *

In Elsa's memory, she was small and drowsy, and it was the first night in many that she was going to let Papa tuck her in. As his hands patted the blanket around her shoulders, she asked in a muffled voice, "Papa? Is Anna asleep?"

Chuckling, her father cupped his large hand against her head. He was warm. "Yes, Princess. I wager you might even hear her snoring from here."

She never told her father that on some nights, she really could.

And she never told him that she sometimes woke in the grey hours with a pounding heart and the chill of snowflakes on bare skin, clutching her chest through a damp nightgown. The king shouldn't be distracted by a young girl's bad dreams, but she had a feeling he'd always known. After all, his portrait had watched her toss and turn beneath the sheets for years.

This time, Elsa woke to the hiss of rain crystallising to ice against her window.

_Please, no,_ she prayed. But when she opened her eyes, her room was powdered white.

She didn't even know what she'd been dreaming of.

Elsa sat up. Icy dew seeped against her skin. She realised she was shivering. "Melt," she said helplessly. "Please. Just… go away."

It didn't. It never did.

_You will learn to control your powers._

She couldn't look at her father's portrait. She couldn't stay where his strong gaze could find her.

Wrapping the blanket around herself, Elsa slid out of bed. The snow was soft beneath her feet – almost warm, somehow – but goosebumps prickled her skin anyway. She hurried to the door, only to hesitate. She looked back.

Her room could have belonged in a child's snow globe; timeless, untouchable. For a fleeting second, Elsa remembered what it was like to be awed by the beauty of her powers, to be grateful that she could make snowmen whenever she wanted. She remembered… liking her powers.

Then the moment was gone, and Elsa shut herself out of the room.

Outside, the corridor was dark and quiet. The sky wasn't even awake yet. Elsa held her breath, afraid the ice would spread through the cracks. But the door stayed closed, and Elsa's quick breathing was the only sound breaking the palace's pre-dawn tranquillity. Anna and everyone else were safe… for now.

Elsa looked down at herself. She had nothing but slippers, a blanket and nowhere to go. If anyone saw her now, they wouldn't believe she was the future mistress of this great palace. Elsa would've laughed if only she wasn't so terrified by the thought.

She was going to be queen.

In less than three years, she'd hold the orb and sceptre in front of her people… _her people. _Elsa raised a hand to her brow, suddenly overwhelmed.

How could her father promise that she would be ready when she so clearly never would be?

A cold tingle spread beneath her palm. _Don't feel, don't feel…_

She heard a deep growl in the darkness.

Eyes widening, Elsa turned around. There was no one else in the corridor.

Then– _snort_. And the rumbling resumed.

Elsa couldn't help smiling when she recognised that sound. She didn't know how she'd ever slept in the same room with that awful noise, but if she had a choice she would go back to those days in a heartbeat.

She hadn't heard Anna snore this loudly in a long time. It was as if there wasn't a door between them… Elsa slipped around the corner.

Anna's door was wide open. But the room beyond was silent. Which meant–

Elsa backtracked, her blanket swirling like a cape. The sounds went past her room, around another corner. And as Elsa turned it, she had a sinking feeling she knew where they were taking her.

Her feet remembered this path. They'd worn it thin on many nights like this, until she realised she couldn't keep going to them… and she was right. But not like this. If she'd known, she would have gone to them a thousand nights over. She would have…

She stopped at the bottom of a carpeted staircase.

Anna was fast asleep at the top, curled against their parents' bedroom door.

She didn't even have a blanket with her and she couldn't possibly be comfortable in that strange position. Then again, Anna at five hadn't been picky with her sleeping surfaces and it should have comforted Elsa to find that her sister hadn't changed by much. But it didn't, because this was not a study desk or barn, or even Elsa herself… this was everything that haunted Elsa's dreams.

Elsa raised her gaze to the double mahogany doors. She and Anna once had to brace both their weights just to open one of them. Their mother made a point of leaving them open. _Sometimes there are doors that we can't see in life,_ she'd told Elsa once. _That is why we should practice opening the ones we can see._ Elsa hadn't understood. Not until the gates had to close because of her, and by then it was much too late.

Her nails cut crescents into her palms as she climbed the first step.

Up close, Anna's sleep did not look as deep as Elsa thought. She twitched and mumbled as Elsa drew closer. Elsa paused, but her sister dozed on with a line of drool on her chin. Carefully, Elsa tucked her blanket over her sister. Anna fidgeted. Her hair was a nest, some strands even in her mouth – but the single white lock shone bright in the dimness.

Elsa drew back and was halfway down the stairs before she realised she couldn't knock to tell Father that Anna was sleeping outside again. She couldn't tell her mother she finally understood her words from all those years ago. There was no one left to open Elsa's doors when she slammed them shut… and no one to shield Anna when she left herself wide open.

Elsa wished she hadn't left her room. She wished Anna knew better, wished that their parents hadn't boarded their ship. She wished none of this had ever happened.

She gently shook Anna's knee. "Wake up, Anna. Please. Anna."

No response. Elsa tried a while longer, and then gave up. She realised she hadn't tried at all; not the way Anna tried with her. She felt weary.

Elsa let it go and sat down beside her sister; far enough that they wouldn't touch, close enough to hear Anna's soft breathing. Elsa pulled her knees up and rested her head with a sigh. Her throat clenched.

"We can't wait here forever, Anna… they won't be coming back."

The words drifted into the early morning chill and were gone. Elsa could never take them back again, and she foolishly didn't think it was a mistake until-

"I know."

Elsa's head came up. Anna hadn't moved, hiding her face in the shadows.

But her voice told Elsa she had been crying.

"Anna–"

"It's okay – _I'm_ okay," Anna said quickly. She sniffled, and then gave a quiet laugh. "Do you think I sleepwalk? Because sometimes Alfred says a cat raided his kitchen and I wake up with chocolate on my face – but don't go telling him that, okay?"

Elsa tried to smile. "Go back to your room, Anna. You'll catch a cold."

Anna pushed her hair from her face. Then she looked meekly at Elsa. "I look like an idiot, don't I? Sleeping out– here."

She didn't, and never would. But if only agreeing with her could block out all that was wrong with this world, Elsa would do it. If only.

"Okay, you totally think I'm lame." Anna filled in her sister's silence. Then she sighed. "I was going to go in but… I guess I couldn't. So I was going to leave except, well, I couldn't do that either... It's funny, huh? I'm usually pretty good at running in without thinking. It's just… I don't know. Maybe…"

Anna was good at that, Elsa realised; distracting people from herself. She'd never seen it before. Now it was all she could see. And when Anna, wiping her face, turned to give her a wobbly grin, Elsa felt something old and warm stir within her.

"I miss them, too."

Anna closed her mouth. She curled up tighter, and so did Elsa. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Elsa stiffened when Anna leaned into her. But Anna didn't give her a chance to bring her walls up. "Hey, Elsa? We'll be okay, won't we?"

And Elsa realised that Anna had only pretended to know the answer, that day outside her door. She had been waiting for someone to agree with her… and the white door never answered. But now the door was behind them rather than in between, and Elsa had never wanted to believe something so desperately.

"You'll be fine, Anna… I promise."

Anna just nodded into her arm. She was asleep in moments, her steady breathing warm against Elsa's neck. Elsa held her own breath. She'd forgotten how heavy and warm Anna could be… but Anna clearly hadn't forgotten how to trust someone with all her weight. She still believed in empty promises.

"I missed you, too," Elsa whispered, at long last. It was all she could manage before Anna's strand of white – _her _white – started to burn a terrible memory into her skin. She couldn't let that night happen again.

But every question she answered, every note she passed, every piece of warmth she touched… they were dangerously breaking down all that she had hidden behind for the last ten years. And suddenly Elsa didn't want the sky to wake, because everything she felt in this moment had become far too precious to conceal.

* * *

A/N: I am completely overwhelmed by the support this story gained in the last chapter. Seriously, where did it all come from?! Looks like Frozen won a lot more than my heart! And that's a very happy thought.

This chapter turned out to be the toughest I've had to write in a long time. At so many points I just wanted to give up on it. But I knew I had to do this right - so after much editing and rewriting, I have to let this one go and live with the fact that Elsa and Anna's story can't always be put into words.

And as always, thanks so much for reading!


	6. Somewhere In That Zone

**The Sky Is Awake**

_VI. Somewhere In That Zone_

* * *

Chestnut didn't think she was doing it right.

"What was that? 'Anna is only good at breaking things'? Well, excuse you! What do you know about fixing bikes, you cute, not-so-little-anymore apple addict?"

Her horse just looked at her. Anna stared back. Chestnut tilted his head. She dropped the screwdriver.

"Okay, so I'm only good at breaking things. Happy?"

Satisfied, Chestnut returned to his apple. Anna stuck out her tongue. It was just silly how jumpy and scared he was of everything except her, and apparently anything he wasn't afraid of got bossed around. He'd probably get her lost on a mountain someday, but she loved the silly creature anyway.

Then Anna looked at the scrap of metal and wheels, and felt a tremor of despair. "Why didn't you tell me this was a bad idea_ before_ I made it worse?" she wailed.

After all, what kind of idiot would ride a bike down two flights of stairs _without sitting on it_? And what kind of maniac would dream of fixing such a wreck after leaving it to rust for so long?

"… Don't answer that."

Chestnut snorted.

Anna's fingers trailed along the bike's scratched frame, up one seat and across to the other. She remembered when her legs weren't even long enough to reach – she'd bugged Mama and Papa about that for months. Elsa had to pedal while Anna steered, which probably explained why they never really got anywhere. So Anna drank her milk and ate all her greens, and finally her feet could reach the pedals… but by then Elsa didn't want to ride their bike around the halls anymore.

And this morning, in the middle of brushing her teeth, it struck Anna that they had never actually ridden their bike together.

Except she'd crashed and hidden it in the barn for two whole years. And Plan A had kind of gone to pieces with the rest of the bike.

If there had been any chance of salvaging the relic, it was all gone now. She should've told Kai to find someone who actually knew what they were doing. Because surely no fool would take apart something they had absolutely no idea how to put back together – seriously, who did that?

"You don't understand, buddy," Anna moaned, scratching Chestnut's ears. "_I _have to be the one to fix it. Never mind I'm also the one who broke it – but honestly, who puts a suit of armour _right there_? Anyway, it just has to be me." Chestnut nipped her braid. "'Why'? What do you mean why? Obviously it's because… um… because…"

Anna's hand went up to touch that strange strand of white in her hair. Sometimes she dreamed she'd been kissed there by a troll, but on that special night she only remembered Elsa's warm cheek against her head.

_You'll be fine, Anna… I promise._

Chestnut nudged her shoulder. Anna leaned into his flank, breathing in his musky hay smell. He was really supposed to be Elsa's horse; a Christmas present. Anna had gotten, well, there were so many gifts from Alfred and the palace staff that she didn't remember what her parents had given her. And even though Elsa only received two presents that year, Anna still remembered being jealous.

He was white and shy, and Mama called him Gulbrand, or Gunnar, or something just as old, which Anna thought was just silly because the pony was obviously too beautiful for a name like that. And he reminded her of Elsa, so, so much.

But when Papa put his reigns in Elsa's hands, Anna watched her sister's awe dissolve into fear. Her wide blue eyes stared at the pony – and then, almost by accident, they fixed on Anna, who had practically draped herself over his neck in excitement.

Elsa slowly walked up to the pony. She raised a gloved hand to his snout, and stroked him carefully. Anna felt him shiver. Elsa pulled away. And gave Anna the reigns.

"He likes Anna more," she said to Papa. When he worriedly asked if she wanted another pony, Elsa just shook her head and said, "I have enough presents this year."

And Anna, partly ecstatic but mostly ashamed, couldn't find the words to thank her sister until the pony tried to eat her hair. He was the first Christmas present Elsa had given her in three years.

Chestnut snorted loudly. Anna blinked, and the answer was right there.

"She promised I would be okay but… she never said she would be, too."

Suddenly, Chestnut shook his entire body, throwing Anna off with a surprised "Hey!" She slipped on some screws and would've fallen spectacularly if Chestnut didn't rescue her with his long neck.

Clinging to salvation, Anna glared at her horse. "What was that for? I was trying to be serious! I do have that mode, you know."

He stamped and jerked his head. _Go, you chicken._

"Am not! What about you? You're a… a… oh dear, I'm talking to a horse. Ow! Okay, I'm going! I'm going!"

* * *

"Chestnut – that's what I called him, did I tell you? – he wanted to see – no wait. He wanted _me_ to see you… _I _wanted to… see – damn it!"

She knew she should've ignored that silly horse! Then she wouldn't have to sound like such an awkward chipmunk in front of her sister and pretend – wait, why was she even pretending again?

Anna flopped back on her bed. She'd just about paced her room bald. She'd been doing that a lot lately, ever since that night Elsa found her outside their parents' door.

Come to think of it, she'd started doing a lot of new things since then. Fixing bikes and failing, for example. She and Elsa talked a lot more, too. Which would've been the news of the century if all of it didn't feel so… so… _polite_.

Weather, food, _architecture_, Arendelle, pigeons – they covered it all over breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sometimes they even had a laugh over dessert. And it wasn't like she wasn't happy about that – it was everything she'd spent all her birthday wishes on.

Everything, but just– not quite there.

Not quite the way it felt when they were still separated by the white door, only Anna was frustrated and begging, and Elsa was telling her to _Go away_ in that sad voice. Which was just absurd, because Anna never thought she would prefer being shut out over… _whatever_ they were doing right now.

It was just– it was like they were sweeping more and more of _that_ night under the door, trying to pretend they hadn't seen each other at their most honest moment and God, that had been so embarrassing–

"… Oh."

_Oh._

Anna slapped a pillow over her head. Because she was so _stupid_… and because she didn't really want to remember how hard it was to cry in front of her sister without a door in between them. She'd spent so long blaming Elsa for her walls that she never realised what a hypocrite she was. But…

But the bad dreams had stayed away, and when she woke up Elsa was still warm and _there_, right next to her and Anna hadn't felt so safe since they veiled the king and queen's portrait.

And then they'd tried to pretend the whole thing hadn't happened.

In a flurry of bed sheets, Anna was out the room and stalking down the corridor, amazed that she wasn't the only idiot this time.

_Knock knock kno-knock knock!_ "Elsa, I'm coming in, okay?"

Anna didn't wait – she couldn't wait. Otherwise Elsa would shut her out and this daring courage would drain away, and they'd never move past weather, architecture and pigeons. And that was just torture. Anna had never been so sure of something so disastrous: she had to do it _right now_.

Except for some reason, she never expected the handle to actually turn… so when it did, Anna froze in shock, unable to push open the door. Because she never knew.

Throughout all these years, Elsa had never locked her door.

Slowly, her fingers pulled away from the handle, leaving the door unopened. Anna tucked her hands behind her back like her actions had painted them red. But Elsa didn't come to the door – she probably wasn't even inside, and Anna was too dumbfounded to be surprised.

She was lucky. Elsa must be having her lessons with her tutor, just about the only reason she ever left her room. Anna used to be jealous (and maybe still was), but right now she felt just like she had when Elsa had handed over Chestnut's reigns.

"Sorry," she breathed to the white door. "I can't go in there, can I?"

It watched her silently.

And then Anna _knew_.

She knew what they were going to talk about at dinner tonight, leaning on either side of this door. She'd tell Elsa how Chestnut was doing and that they should take him for a ride together, because their bike was too small for them anyway. They'd stumble awkwardly through memories of the things they used to do, and Elsa might apologise and Anna would try not to push too hard. And then she'd ask Elsa if she had always trusted her not to break through her door, or if that was exactly what she'd been waiting for all these years.

She really, really needed to know.

She wanted to promise that Elsa was going to be okay, too, because she deserved to be. She'd even steal a chocolate bunny from the kitchen, just like–

_I have enough presents this year._

Anna's hands came up to her mouth. She stared at the white door, and her vision began to waver.

She didn't know anything at all.

"Anna? What are you doing?"

She whirled, wiping her eyes – and there was Elsa, a stack of old books weighing down her arms. Anna met her sister's furrowed gaze, and suddenly she couldn't help it.

She sniffled once, twice – and burst into tears.

"_Anna_?" Elsa put down the books, flustered. "Is something wrong? Are you hurt? I don't… please tell me what's wrong. I-I'm right here… Anna?"

Somehow that just made it all worse.

Anna blubbered, "Why didn't you just tell me that was all you wanted?"

Elsa looked bewildered. Anna wanted to dig a hole in the stables and stay there forever.

Then Elsa took a deep breath. "I-If you cry too much, your tears will create a big monster that will eat all the chocolate in Arendelle…"

Anna choked on tears and laughter. Elsa flushed and patted her back.

And Anna didn't quite understand it all; that you can never know what you want until someone gives it to you. But she did learn that the best gifts are often accidents, and that sometimes a childish promise or a chocolate bunny left outside a white door can make all the difference.

* * *

A/N: Is it weird that I loved how Anna scratches Hans' horse under the chin when they first meet? Because that was the precise moment I fell in love with her.


	7. Twenty Feet Of Fresh Powder

I realised a couple hours after submitting the last chapter that my scene break hadn't been saved, so I went back and put it in as soon as I could. If you read that chapter very soon after it came out (and thanks for that!) I hope it is now less confusing for you. I've also gone back and done quick proof-edits of the previous chapters. You ain't seen no typos anywhere!

I just got back from a holiday and I tried to squeeze this chapter into it, but it didn't really work out. Thanks for waiting, and lots of warm hugs to those new to this story!

* * *

**The Sky Is Awake**

_VII. Twenty Feet Of Fresh Powder_

* * *

Elsa started drinking tea when she was twelve years old, around the same time her parents began training her in alcohol. After all, a royal who couldn't hold their liquor would not be a very wise aristocrat at all. And Elsa was the heir.

But she hated everything about it, from the thick aroma to the pungent flavour burning down her throat. Worse, she was terrified of the way its warm fuzz made her feel like there wasn't a single thing in the world to worry about. Her nervous fingers froze more than a dozen champagne flutes, and even when they didn't she imagined they formed tiny icicles in her bloodstream. That was the year she had been the worst to Anna, even though her sister had always been so excited to see her at the dinner table.

"Simply pretend," her mother told her after a particularly bad night. Elsa had barely held out until Anna ran from the dinner hall in her usual fashion, still cramming dessert into her mouth. She spent a lot of time with her new horse back then, but Elsa didn't have it in her to think about anything more than the storming migraines that pushed her restraint with each meal.

The moment the doors closed behind her sister, Elsa's glass shattered and the entire tablecloth turned to running sleet as she exhaled shakily against the pounding throb behind her eye.

Her parents had looked at each other with the same hidden disappointment Elsa wished so much she wasn't the cause of. Her father half-rose from his seat, but gave up when he saw how strained Elsa's control already was. "Perhaps it's too early," he suggested quietly.

The queen didn't say anything. Instead, she knelt down by her daughter's side. "Don't touch me," Elsa started automatically. Her eyes were red. "Please… I don't want to-"

"You would never hurt us, Elsa," the queen said. "You couldn't."

"No! Please – I can't _think_ properly and-"

"Why must that be such a terrible thing?"

Elsa stopped and for one moment, the ache faded into the background as she stared into her mother's sad eyes.

The queen laid a hand on her daughter's knee. "Simply pretend."

The spilt wine had stained her skirt in patches of crimson butterflies. She wondered what Anna was doing right now.

"Pretend that you are drinking tea."

"I… Mother, I don't know what tea tastes like."

"Then you'll simply have to believe me when I say it tastes like a sunny afternoon."

Elsa opened her mouth, but her mother smoothed a hand over her hair and shushed her like a child. "A cup of tea tastes like your favourite fairy tale. It smells of forgiving and forgetting, and when you drink to its bottom, you can read all the choices you never knew you had."

She'd closed her eyes then, but she still felt the light kiss on her temple, right above the throbbing pain. "I'm sorry, Elsa," her mother sighed. "Simply pretend that you don't have to pretend at all."

* * *

A scrabbling noise shook Elsa from her reverie. Blinking, she looked up from the bottom of her cup and the soft glare of the midday sun shone upon her face. The thick tome on her lap rested open at a fable she was too old to be reading and a ledger of Arendelle's latest accounts lay at her feet, unopened. Elsa averted her eyes in guilt.

"Oh," she breathed in surprise.

There was a black cat on the roof beyond her window. Looking at it, Elsa realised she and Anna used to chase a cat just like this one. Anna would follow it up pipes and through fences, and Elsa wouldn't be able to keep up. She would always wait at the bottom, laughing and calling, just in case Anna fell. But she was always fine… except for that ni-

_Meow…_

The cat was still in the same spot, pawing at the burgundy tiles. "Be careful," Elsa told it with a small smile.

The huge, arching window was the only thing Elsa liked about her room. At times it was torture, but she would never give up her view of the palace grounds and the kingdom beyond the gates. Whenever Anna played in the courtyard, or when fireworks bloomed above the village, Elsa watched from the ledge with her head against the glass, and sometimes she simply pretended.

The cat looked back at her.

"Are you lost, little guy?"

It wasn't especially little, in truth. Elsa hadn't seen more than birds from her window for a long time. She'd never kept a pet in this room.

The cat shuffled on the spot, looking around its feet. Elsa had never seen stray cats hesitate at even greater heights, and she wondered what gave this particular one pause when it finally took one careful step-

And she watched in horror as its hind legs buckled and it lost grip and rolled down the tiles, yowling, claws scrabbling– and the edge slid closer–

Elsa was so breathless she could hear the ocean in her ears.

The cat lay shocked in its cradle of snow. The cold startled it lucid. It hastily twisted and found purchase, clambered clumsily to higher tiles. The snow began to run.

The window was frosted where Elsa had slammed her hands to the glass.

_Catch me…!_

The cat limped to the middle of the roof, sat down and shivered. Elsa held her hands to her chest. The cat called out, scratched nervously at the tiles. It was hurt; she knew it was… and now she desperately needed to know that she hadn't made it worse.

But the tiles were slick with dew and she'd never, not once, opened her huge windows. And the _drop_…

She opened her mouth to call for someone, but fell short when she realised she didn't know how to.

The cat whimpered.

_Click_.

Elsa's eyes widened. She stared at her own fingers and the brass latch underneath – released.

Something swelled within her like a growing wave. For just one second, Elsa wondered if this was what it felt like to be free. To find out that something so small and simple could hold back so much.

The hinges squeaked. The cat jumped. Elsa froze.

Then it looked at her, right in the eyes, and the icy shores within her melted.

"Okay," she whispered. She carefully raised her knee to the ledge, pushing the glass pane open. It was heavy. It struck her that these windows were not meant to be opened for a very good reason.

The wind and the sounds of the outside world blew in to meet her. She could see most of Arendelle from here, just like she had for ten years, only this time she could feel the fresh breeze in her hair.

This was completely insane.

"Okay," Elsa breathed again. She was completely on the ledge now. The cat's tail stood rigid. "Um… hang on. I'm going to… oh goodness."

She didn't know where to put her feet. Should she take her slippers off? How much snow could she conjure in sickening freefall? She wished she were more like Anna.

Elsa tried to pry one white-knuckled hand from the sill, extended it as much as she dared. "C-Come here," she said, but her voice was too small and the rest of the world too big. She swallowed. She should have called for someone.

"It's okay… I won't hurt you. I-I know that's hard to believe."

If she fell, would Anna have to learn to drink wine?

With a deep breath, Elsa lowered herself to one knee. The tiles glowed warm and it was all she could do to keep it that way. The cat dragged itself one step back and let out a thin cry. It reminded Elsa of how Anna used to hide behind her when Papa's guests visited.

_Simply pretend._

Slowly, she took her other hand off the window. She gazed into the cat's wary eyes, tried not to look anywhere else, and smiled. "You're okay. I got you."

The cat didn't move. The last trickle of melted snow sloughed over the roof edge. Elsa never heard it hit the courtyard far below. She didn't hear much of anything at all, because the cat took one slow step towards her – and everything after that just… _happened._

It started with a flash of green swooping into the corner of her vision.

"_Found you!"_

"An-"

_MEO-_

"You're a fast muffin! Wait- ow, not the hair-"

"_An_-"

–_snap._

"… Uh oooaahhh!"

"_Anna_?!"

She was frozen, petrified and awed and rapturous all at the same time – and she shouldn't be able to move but somehow she did-

And then there was a splitting _CRASH_ of wood, terracotta, limbs and fur, and there was a hysterical cat in her arms and Anna was somewhere-

"… Anna?"

Silence.

"_Anna_?"

"... ooh, my funny bone feels _really_ funny."

Her breath left her in a sigh of relief. And in its place, Elsa slowly felt it all settle in.

"Did you just-"

"Swing in on the window cleaner's platform and almost die? Nnn… yes. And ow."

"You could have _fallen_-"

"I know. Oh God, I know. That was like a crazy trust exercise with… wait. _Elsa?_"

The cat pushed a trembling nose into her neck and the cold wasn't supposed to bother Elsa, but this time a deep shiver ran through her soul.

_Catch me!_

Suddenly, strawberry blonde hair blocked out the sky and was everywhere all over her face. A silver glint caught the sunlight but her sister's eyes were brighter. "I'm so sorry!" Anna panicked. "I didn't see- can't believe- what are you _doing_ out here?"

Elsa asked herself the same question. What _was_ she doing here? Sprawled on upturned tiles and splintered wood with a cat on her chest. Queens didn't do things like that.

But Anna did.

"I… saw a cat," Elsa said.

Anna's eyes widened. "And you fell out of your window?"

"What? No, no, I didn't."

"But you're out here with me and _I_ fall off things."

Elsa turned her head away. The thin air and dying adrenaline put a dull, familiar fuzziness in her mind.

_Why must that be such a terrible thing?_

She whispered, "I was trying to catch you."

Anna looked at her strangely. Then she rubbed the back of her neck and let out one of her awkward laughs. "Well, you did."

Elsa sucked in a breath. She closed her eyes.

"You always did."

Her eyes flew open. She stared at Anna's shy smile. "What do you mean?" Elsa asked slowly.

Snorting, Anna waved her hand. "Oh, stop trying to be polite. Admit it: I'm a klutz. I was _always_ a klutz. Maybe not so much anymore because I can totally put one foot in front of the other now – but, you know, _before_ that…" She raised her fingers and counted them off. "I fell from trees, out of bed, off the bike, into the pond – and there was that time we-"

"Chased a cat," Elsa breathed. Then she started to laugh.

Because she remembered them now, all the times that had come before the last time. How she would pat that silly girl's head, tug her little nose and grin, _You're okay, Anna. I got you._

Anna's eyes shone. "I told you," she whispered. "Crazy trust exercise."

* * *

A/N: I know that in the movie, Elsa's window doesn't look like it can be opened at all. In fact, a lot of the palace's structure is amateur imagination. But then again, so is everything else in this story. Just channel Kristoff and roll with it!

Continued in Anna's POV next chapter and hopefully answering all the questions Elsa was too flabbergasted to ask in this one.


	8. Best Friend's Name

**The Sky Is Awake**

_VIII. Best Friend's Name_

* * *

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Who, me? Oh, absolutely! What makes you think I'm not?"

"You're… hopping."

Busted.

"A-Am I? You're imagining it. I mean, I look nothing like a bunny." Anna casually let go of the wall. Only to have lightning sprint up her left leg and send her crashing back on her side. Elsa winced. The cat in her arms squirmed.

Anna figured it was entirely the window cleaner's fault. If they hadn't left their hanging platform, well, _hanging around_, she wouldn't have jumped onto it. Then she wouldn't have crash landed on top of her sister like such a clumsy fool and she _definitely_ wouldn't have tripped climbing back through Elsa's window. And Elsa wouldn't have to look at her like– _that_.

Anna flashed a sheepish grin. "I know! Let's play tortoise and the hare! You guys go ahead and I'll hop along and meet you at the physician's office. Wait, does that make me the tortoise or the hare?"

"Does it hurt?" Elsa asked softly.

Anna looked up in surprise. "No! No, of course not. Trust me, I'm _so_ used to this."

Elsa smiled faintly, but the look in her eyes didn't change. "Anna?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't do that."

_Do what?_ she almost asked, but then she saw Elsa's face and her smile slipped for a slight grimace of pain. Maybe she had hit that ledge a little hard.

"It kind of stings," Anna admitted. "But just a teeny tiny bit! Just sort of, like, _ow_ when I use it. I-It's not broken or anything. Though it probably would be if you hadn't caught me – close one, huh?"

Elsa's expression tightened. Staring down at her hands, at the injured black cat, she whispered, "Too close." Then she clenched her fingers and walked away.

Anna stood there, confused, because for a moment she'd somehow thought Elsa would extend her hand or… oh, she didn't know! But then she remembered something their mother had said – about doors that you couldn't see – and for some reason that made her feel a little better. Anna knew a lot about doors.

So she hobbled after Elsa, who hadn't really gone that far ahead. She managed to get two steps in the lead and leaned over curiously, but Elsa was trying hard not to meet her eyes.

Instead, the cat saw her and started hissing. _Oh boy…_

Anna held up her hands in surrender. "I know, I know! I'm sorry – I miscalculated the angle, okay? Not all ninjas get it right the first go." Under her breath, she added, "Of course, none of this would've happened if you had just _let_ me help you before you ran off like that."

The cat glowered back and Anna grudgingly accepted that she should have listened to Chestnut, just this once. He'd insisted the cat was up to something, climbing up to the stable roof so sneakily, but Anna didn't like to judge. Maybe he was just curious about the baby birds that had just hatched up there, which made perfect sense because Anna had already confirmed the hatchlings were indisputably adorable. Right before Mama Bird kicked her off.

Next thing she knew, all she could hear was high-pitched yowling and the angry beat of feathers and _thump!_ The cat was back on the ground, shocked.

Now Anna had been in the same position many times and she knew that short falls hurt the most_._ Even an old cat's bones would be rattled. But before she could get to him, Mama Bird squawked loudly from above and the cat scrambled to his wobbly feet and made a break for it… and Anna had just known she couldn't leave him out there.

Except his last scare with heights hadn't discouraged him from scampering up more of them – Anna couldn't remember ever climbing so many stairs. Then she saw the platform hanging out the open window and she played on those all the time, only she forgot about the _landing_ part and now – well, now they were here. With Elsa.

_With Elsa._

"I'm glad I crashed."

"What was that?"

Anna clapped her hands over her mouth, forgetting all about balance and barely catching herself in time. "Nothing! Just talking to myself as usual."

Elsa looked dubious, but the cat pushed his flat head into her neck and she got distracted. Anna could have kissed the dishevelled thing. Only he was glaring at her.

Making a face, Anna bent over. "Hey, I said I was sorry! Don't you get all possessive now. That's _my _sister–" Dropping into a conspiratorial whisper– "and I think she's got a thing about dirt so maybe you ought to get your paws off before she-"

Elsa made a strange sound.

When they were kids Anna would always be the first to throw herself at any creature, big or small, while Elsa kept to quick pats and admiring from a distance. Yet at the end of the day, Anna was always the one with the scratch marks and the animals would be all over Elsa, fighting for her attention. They never figured out why it was that way; it just was.

Maybe there were some things time and closed doors couldn't change.

"… laughs," Anna finished breathlessly.

Elsa's hand fell away from her smile. And she looked at Anna – just looked at her – and her eyes softened and she mouthed, "Dirt?"

For a long moment, Anna just kept grinning without a clue, waiting. Then she realised that was it. Laughter and one unspoken word.

Conversation the way they used to do it.

"Oh, come on! You totally do."

"I do not."

"Do too!"

"There is a difference between being _organised _and being…" Elsa's lips twitched. "… you."

Anna's mouth popped open with a disbelieving laugh. _Oh, she did _not _just-_ "You still make your own bed, don't you?" she accused.

Elsa looked taken aback. Then the smallest glimmer of that old mischief sneaked into her eyes, and Anna's grin was so large it hurt.

"I'm assuming _you_ still wear your blanket to breakfast."

Hah! "Yours, actually. See, you never said you wanted it _back_." The ache in her ankle seemed so far away now, and the distance left to the physician's office too short. Anna continued triumphantly, "I bet you arrange your dolls by name."

"I- Anna! I'm almost nineteen."

"You _are_?!" Anna coughed and tucked a curl behind her ear. "I mean– of course. Not as in of-course-you're-getting-old or anything. Just that, you know, you're so tall and so much beautifuller – _beautiful_ – that of course it makes sense. That you're old…er." She scratched her nose sheepishly. "You _are_ my big sister."

Elsa's head came up. The cat pawed at her idle hand; gloved in velvet, always. Anna caught herself staring at them, and so did Elsa. Anna hesitated. She opened her mouth to ask-

_BANG!_

Down the hall, the door to Anna's doom flew open. "I knew it!" a squeaky voice puffed.

Anna swallowed. Behind her, Elsa was frozen, her eyes wide as they fixated on the doorway and the tiny figure that had burst from it.

"Princess _Anna_," the royal physician rumbled as he stalked down the hall on stubby legs. "Just as I expected – always expected. After all, who else could be so _unfortunate_ to visit an old dwarf for the third – third! – time this week?"

Was it just her or did being twice his height make no difference at all? Anna flashed a guilty grin. "Hi, Smut-"

"_Smolt_, Your Highness."

"Oh! Sorry!"

His beady eyes swooped over her, zoning into her fidgety gaze. "Dare I ask what it was you walked into this time?"

"Nothing!" Technically true. "But this kitty on the other hand-"

Smolt raised a hand, along with his long nose. "Please do not try to hide injuries that are at my eye level."

"A-Anyway! So the cat took a bad fall-"

Smolt sighed, and Anna knew it was coming. "This is becoming a troubling matter, Anna."

She closed her mouth.

"We always knew you were a most… sprightly child. It was quite endearing, if I might add. But you must understand. Even if I hide your bruises and conceal your scrapes, Arendelle will not see you as a child for much longer."

If Chestnut were here he would say, _I told you so._

"You are a princess… my lady."

Anna tried to smile.

And a steady voice came from behind her: "She certainly is. But it is to me the people will look."

Smolt jumped. Anna couldn't blame him. All of a sudden her heart had sprung from her chest to her ears, and she wanted to spin around and cry _Mama_, because it was _her_ _voice_… but she didn't. Didn't, because she had slept by that big door and even if she hadn't believed it then, she couldn't run away from it when her sister found her and whispered _They won't be coming back._

"Princess Elsa," she heard Smolt breathe. Watched him bow so deeply his brow reflected on the polished floor. "Your Highness."

Anna turned her head as Elsa moved past. Her back was straight, shoulders strong. Even the cat didn't make a sound. Anna looked into her sister's face. It was Elsa, and it wasn't Elsa.

_Poise._

"We apologise for bothering you," she began, but Smolt intercepted hastily.

"Please, the regrets are all mine – I did not see you there, my lady. I have an, ah, limited line of vision. It is an– honour, truly, to receive you after so long."

Anna thought she saw her sister hesitate – but no. Elsa inclined her head, smiling, yet somehow it wasn't the same one she had given Anna only minutes ago. "We were hoping you could help us. Anna and I found this cat limping and stranded."

Smolt tried to see, but he hardly reached Elsa's elbow. He flushed when she realised the same and knelt down for him. The cat shied away from his touch, clinging to Elsa. "I understand," Smolt said. "But Princess Anna's leg-"

"Can wait," Anna cut in quickly. The physician frowned. "Really. I promise I'll stay put this time, listen to everything you say."

"We both know that would not hold past lunchtime, Princess." Anna couldn't help grinning back. He rolled his eyes; a gesture he had used to amuse Anna when she was younger, sitting in his small chair with skinned knees. She remembered a time she used to like Smolt's office.

Finally, he shook his head. "At least allow me to fetch you an icepack."

Elsa had trouble handing the cat over to Smolt because the feline protested so loudly and sharply. "Please be careful with him," she murmured, and it wasn't the queen's voice anymore. Just Elsa.

Smolt bowed once more and disappeared into his office. Anna whirled around happily, but stopped short when she saw Elsa's closed eyes and clenched jaw. The regal composure was fading. She let out a long, shaky breath.

"Elsa? Are you okay?"

Anna heard the tinkle of breaking glass in the distance.

Elsa's eyes flew open and caught on Anna's surprised ones. There was no way Anna could mistake that look. She'd grown up seeing it at the dinner table, during fleeting moments in the hallways, and just before the white door closed.

Walls.

"Elsa?" Her sister stared at her. Anna smiled hopelessly.

Elsa drew her arms close. Her breaths rose in mist even though the sunlight streaming in was warm on Anna's skin. "I… I have to go." Elsa turned around – leaving – and Anna wanted so badly to know _why_… but then she looked into her sister's fear, and she realised she didn't really want to know at all.

"Okay," she said.

Elsa closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Anna."

Anna shook her head and smiled, because she was thinking of dirt and blankets. Today, she told herself. That was all she was allowed to have for one day. It was enough.

But even as she watched Elsa walk away, she heard herself calling, "Can I just ask you something– crazy?"

Elsa stopped, a small figure in a long corridor. She looked over her shoulder and it _was_ crazy, but Anna thought she could hear her silent answer from afar: _You always do._

"Doesn't it get lonely in your room?"

Elsa didn't move. Anna could hear herself breathe. Could hear Elsa breathe.

"No."

Anna sucked in a breath. "But-"

Elsa held a finger to her lips, and smiled. "It's not my real room."

_Our little secret._

Anna stood still as Elsa walked away from her, and she realised she could get used to this.

She shouted, "I'm still keeping your blanket!"

Elsa's skirt fluttered around the corner. It would probably take years for Anna to recognise her laugh without a door muffling it.

Probably.

Not really.

* * *

A/N: This one is possibly my favourite one so far - not really to write, but I love it all the same. Our girls deserve a laugh! Also, check out more amazing Elsa reprises of Do You Wanna Build A Snowman!

Add youtube dot com before these:

/watch?v=pvN4YnFgmEQ

/watch?v=MutnK1UbdRk


	9. People Don't Really Change

**The Sky Is Awake**

_IX. People Don't Really Change_

* * *

Elsa looked up in time to see the last leaf fall from the tree outside her window. She put down her pen, looked at the date she had written at the top of the letter and felt a cold wind stir in her stomach. This time of year always came too quickly.

A knock at the door. Three orderly raps. Elsa blinked. "Kai?" she called.

"Your Highness, I have your morning meal."

Elsa glanced back at the window. Her gaze shifted to the tallest watchtower, barely visible behind the north wing. It was a frozen tempest in winter, and eventually the king reformed the guard's patrols to spare them from the watchtower on the worst nights. But not all the tower's visitors were guards.

"I'm coming."

Outside, Kai waited patiently with a tray, neat and proper. When Anna delivered meals, she always tried to strike a pose as Elsa opened the door, more often than not sending the drinks flying.

Kai bowed. "Shall I bring it inside for you, my lady?" He and Gerda always asked, no matter how many times she refused them, and Elsa always did. Always.

She wondered if Anna had appetite for breakfast.

To his credit, Kai only smiled when Elsa nodded and held the door open. She clenched and unclenched her fingers as he set the tray down on her desk. Eventually, she found her voice. "How is Anna?"

"Bedridden, I'm afraid," Kai answered, "although Master Smolt assures me her fever will pass. He was rather upset to find the princess back in his clinic so soon."

A smile flickered across Elsa's lips. "Was she looking for them again?" And Kai must have known she meant _the decorations_, because he nodded meaningfully. "Are they beautiful this year?" Elsa asked quietly.

"Gerda went down to the village recently. She tells me the citizens are organising a marching band."

_Music._ There had always been music when they went with Father and Mother. "Spread word that those under royal service are free to participate if they wish. I'm aware they have not had much chance to perform in court recently."

"Of course, Your Highness." Kai began to tidy the papers Elsa had been working on, which only gave away his hesitation because he had never doubted that Elsa could manage her room on her own, even as a child. "May I inquire; how are the– other preparations faring?"

And suddenly Elsa's fear for this season grew, because she could no longer stand behind her father and let him speak for her. She kept her voice steady. "You're holding them."

Kai looked at the letters. She could almost hear him thinking, wondering, if they were the reason for the shadows beneath her eyes. "I know I have already suggested this last week," Kai began, "but the governors would gladly have taken this burden off your hands."

If only. "It isn't a burden. This is my responsibility."

Kai looked at her sadly. It struck Elsa that he and the staff were getting older; that she was, too. "With all due respect, Princess Elsa," Kai said softly, "your coronation is still a while away. There is no need for you to take on a queen's duties so early."

She closed her eyes, kept her hands – gloves – clasped in front of her. "It's just for this one time. One day," she added, as if that changed anything. Kai bowed his head and said nothing. Elsa took in a breath, exhaled, and felt the tension in her neck ease, just a little. "Kai?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Has it already been a year?"

His eyes flickered to the king's portrait on her wall. "Almost, ma'am."

She nodded. She gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Kai."

He smiled back. "The festival looks lovely this year, Your Highness." There was a hint of suggestion in his voice. Elsa caught it, and shook her head. His smile did not falter.

As Kai began to leave the room, Elsa spoke up. "Do you know, Kai? What she wants this year?"

He paused at the door and seemed to consider this. Then he chuckled. "I believe you are asking the wrong person, Princess Elsa."

* * *

Two. That was Elsa's solution by nightfall. Over the next week, at least half a dozen ships would dock at Arendelle's shores, and among them were two particular dignitaries that she needed to watch carefully. Father had said so last year.

But this year was different. This year, Elsa was all that stood between Arendelle's politics, and Anna.

It was just one day.

Her head fell back against the straight back of her chair, a soft sigh escaping. Her stomach was empty, her dinner sitting cold at the edge of her desk. It had been left outside her door with a quick knock – which was not like Kai, but Elsa hadn't had the mind to pay it any attention. Now, as she pulled the tray towards her and saw the gold-foiled bunny tucked beneath the napkin, she understood why.

No, not like Kai at all.

She would have made a strange sight, walking down the icy corridors without a coat. Elsa knew she should take one, just in case, but there was a dull throb in her temple and she simply did not want to think about anything. She only wanted to check, that was all.

She stopped in front of her old bedroom door.

Elsa leaned in to listen, her hand on the doorknob. The silence reminded her of the night Anna had slept outside their parents' room. She thought of the watchtower, cold and dark. Then she heard something – a scratchy sound not unlike congested plumbing, and she rested her brow against the wood. For a while, she simply stood there, listening.

Because she'd done the same thing, this time last year, until her mother came out of the room with an empty soup bowl and found her there. _Your sister makes a terrible patient_, she'd said. Elsa had started to smile, but then her mother asked, _Would you like to see the festival this year, Elsa?_ And her gloves had almost not been enough.

_I can't, Mother._

_That was not the question, sweetheart._

_Mama… please._

The queen had shaken her head, but she had never given up quite as easily as her husband. _What starts with Anna and ends with Elsa?_ she'd sung softly, the way she used to before the gates closed on her daughters' own festival.

And Elsa had stayed silent, even though she knew the answer deep in her heart, always. She should have said something, anything. But that was the last time she talked with her mother alone, before she boarded the ship… and then it was too late to say anything at all.

Tonight, Elsa had to open the door on her own.

She turned the handle.

The moon greeted her through the window, hovering in the frame as if it meant to be there. Immediately, Elsa's eyes fell on the bed; not because she had been searching for it, but because Anna had moved it into Elsa's former spot, where the sky's light could always reach. The silhouette of half a dozen blankets piled on top.

Elsa took a breath, and looked around. The desk, the bookshelf, the battered chest of old toys… She touched the wall next to her, and smiled in the darkness.

Anna hadn't changed anything at all.

Then Elsa's eyes fell on the floor.

Anna snorted in her sleep.

Elsa gingerly stepped over a tangle of dresses in her path, then another… and another. Finally, she sighed. She turned around and picked them all up. As she draped everything over the armchair, Elsa's gaze lingered on the dolls lining Anna's desk. Their stitched smiles beamed up at her, and she realised with a strange feeling in her chest that she recognised most of them. She straightened them gently.

A fitful scuffling came from the bed. Slowly, Elsa moved closer. Anna was barely visible beneath the blankets, her wild hair a dark mess under the moonlight. Elsa knelt down and looked up at her sister's sleeping face. She still drooled, still slept in awkward positions. She still looked like a child.

But the silver strand glistened like frost – and Elsa remembered a flash of ice in her fingers, that day outside the physician's door. She drew back.

Her leg bumped into the bedside table. A book fell onto the floor. Elsa held her breath. Anna slept on.

Elsa picked up the book. It had fallen open at the middle, a pen clipped in the pages; a combination she did not expect to find at Anna's bedside. Curious, she brought it to the light. And smiled.

She moved to the window ledge. It was exactly the same as the one in her room, but for some reason this felt smaller, as if the space could not recognise her longer legs. Elsa pulled them to her chest, propped the book against her knees and picked up the pen. Then she paused, because she thought she'd caught a glimpse of the auroras through the dark clouds – and Elsa wondered.

She wondered about the festival. She wondered when Anna's geometry homework was due. She wondered if her parents were somewhere in the lights, watching. And she wondered how long she could stay in this moment, right here.

* * *

"Psst, Elsa!"

She was dreaming of snow in the great hall – but not of that night. Of every other night that her sister had climbed into her bed and asked that one, special question. She dreamed of Olaf.

"Wake up, wake up, wake _up_!"

Elsa opened her eyes with a gasp, and the snow snapped straight to her fingertips. A familiar blanket slid off her shoulders. "_Anna_-"

"Shh! It's coming!"

She _knew_ that – the ice was on her skin, slithering up the wall at her back – she couldn't hold it back. "Anna, please, you have to-"

The sky burst alight.

Anna squealed.

Fractals of colour danced in Elsa's eyes.

"One!" Anna laughed. "Two!" As a second blazing trail streaked into the dark sky, blooming bright green. "Three!" And they kept coming, one after another, until the night was filled with smoke and her sister's laughter. One last comet flew higher than the others, hanging suspended for a fraction of a second-

"Sixteen," Elsa whispered, as a distant cheer rang from the village. Midnight. Five days later, there would be nineteen.

Anna squeezed her hand. Elsa looked over and watched the fading fireworks flash in her sister's bright eyes. Anna grinned back.

_Guess what?_ she mouthed. _The sky's awake._

And so it was.

"I'm sorry," Elsa murmured.

The lights flickered, bemused, in Anna's gaze. "For what?" she asked.

_That you get sick every year, trying to see your own birthday celebrations. _But Elsa only shook her head.

Looking at her weirdly, Anna suddenly leaned over. "Is that my _homework_?" She flipped through the pages and made a face. "Did I really get every question wrong?"

Elsa ran a hand over the folds of the blanket – her blanket. "Not every one… only the majority."

"Right… oh no, hang on-" Anna's face scrunched up. "_Achoo!_" She felt around for the tissue box. Elsa gently pushed it into her hand. "Ub, danks. Ugh. Watchtower in winter? Bad idea. Wait, I think I said that last year."

The ice was at her back again.

Anna blew her nose loudly. "But you know, it's totally worth it, getting sick and all, because you can see _everything_ up there – I think they're having a _marching band_ this year. How cool is that? They haven't had one since the last time we… went." She grimaced. That had been ten – eleven – years ago.

Elsa rested her head on her knees.

After a long while, Anna said, "Hey, Elsa?"

She turned her head slightly. Anna was sitting with her back against the ledge, too close, too warm. But Elsa was too tired to feel the ice anymore.

"Happy birthday."

For the first time in forever, she didn't hear it through her keyhole. Behind her eyelids, Elsa pictured a warm table and the king and queen's smiles as their daughters sang birthday wishes to each other, every day, until the final fireworks on the fifth day; always three more in the sky than there had been on the first.

The winter festival was theirs.

Elsa's fingers lightly brushed the top of Anna's head, as if everything were dust. Their weight settled for a short moment. "Happy birthday to you, too."

And it only last seconds, but it must have been enough for Anna, because she nestled her head against Elsa's side. She paused. "Can I?" she asked.

Elsa remembered a time when her sister was so much smaller and only asked questions that had no answers. That time was supposed to be an eternity away… but in this room, all it took was one word. "Okay."

Anna curled up, hugging the geometry book. Elsa draped the blanket over her. Anna yawned, "I miss Mama's soup."

Elsa closed her eyes and felt her body relax. "Do you ever wish, Anna?" she asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"That you were a normal girl."

She felt Anna's head shift. "Do _you_?"

"I can't."

"That wasn't really the question."

Elsa smiled faintly. No. No, it wasn't.

"Elsa?"

_What starts with Anna and ends with Elsa?_

"It's alright, Anna. Go to sleep."

Outside, the northern lights shimmered.

_Everything._

* * *

A/N: Alas, I have rewritten and scrapped this chapter four times. I am done.

It's my headcanon that the sisters were both born in winter, and that Arendelle turned the five days between their birthdays into an annual festival. So as children, Anna and Elsa treated the entire festival as their mutual birthday. Because if Rapunzel can have lanterns, our sisters can have fireworks. Fanfic liberties galore! Also, thanks to darkrunner's wonderful oneshots, my headcanon now believes that Kai is the bomb - check out their fic _Kjærlighet Vil Tine_!

As always, thank you all so much for reading!

P.S. I recently made a tumblr (and don't know how to use it)! It's at themarshmallowattack dot tumblr dot com - or you can click the link in my profile. Still a little under construction. There's a status tab with progress on the next chapter (which I will try my utmost best to keep updated). This is partly because uni is starting up soon and there might be less time for hobbies - but you bet I'll be writing every chance I get. Who cares about good grades when you can simply pass _and_ hang out with awesome Disney characters?


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